


Not A Virgin

by PotionsMistressM



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-07
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionsMistressM/pseuds/PotionsMistressM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In hindsight, trying to get Hermione to loosen up might not have been the best idea ever.</p><p><b>***IN THIS STORY HERMIONE <i>IS</i> OF LEGAL AGE IN THE WIZARDING WORLD, BUT POTENTIALLY NOT IN THE MUGGLE WORLD***</b></p><p><b>***ALSO, SOME HAVE FELT THAT THE ACTIONS IN THIS STORY CONSTITUTE NONCON OR DUBCON.***</b> Though that is not the intention, if you are triggered by such things, please do not read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Not A Virgin  
>  **Summary:** In hindsight, trying to get Hermione to loosen up might not have been the best idea ever.  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, HG/SS  
>  **Genre:** Humor bordering on crack, depending on viewpoint... also, porn.  
>  **Rating/Warnings:** R-NC-17/ drunk!Hermione, drunk!sex, sex with a professor, some people have previously made mention of this fic not matching the so-called Harry Potter timeline for me mentioning Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty" video, so if that kind of stuff bothers you... well, this probably isn't the story for you anyway...  
>  **Medium:** Song fic, fic (+1,000)

Not A Virgin  
Getting the Head Girl drunk had been more difficult than anticipated, but all involved unanimously agreed it had been well worth the wait. Seven years in the making and involving more than half of the students in her year, the plan had been elaborate and detailed. The top minds of the class (excluding Hermione herself, of course) had plotted and planned, taking great pains to ensure all of the elements would come together in exactly the right way. To that way of thinking, it was a lot like Potions class.

Only funner.

And so it was with bated breath that the rowdy seventh years gathered in the Room of Requirement under the guise of an end-of-term celebration. Hermione was not initially in attendance, but this was only to be expected. She would be there soon enough. Almost immediately, the contraband liquor was flowing freely thanks to Seamus Finnigan's extraordinary skills in transfiguration and what the room had deemed necessary, and the noise of the student body began calling to Hermione like sirens to sailors.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl and pride of Gryffindor, could hear a student misbehaving from three miles away.

The noise level started out almost peacefully. Sure, several Muggleborn Hufflepuffs had begun blaring a magical recording of some of their favorite Muggle party music, and certainly, said music was in less than polite taste, but almost anyone in the school would have let it slide. It was the end of the first term of the last school year for these students. Surely no one would begrudge them a little recreation.

There were only two people in the entire castle who could have threatened the little shindig, and the other one was at a supersecret meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry had made sure that the snarky Potions Master would be out of the castle. It had been easy enough; supersecret meetings always took place on Wednesday nights. Then they played poker. Snape should be out of the castle until at least midnight.

Which left the other thorn in their side, Hermione, in perfect position. Cranking the volume of the music up just a tiny bit, Harry smiled knowingly. Catching Ron's eye and giving him a meaningful nod, the two began their simultaneous mental countdown.

Three...

Two...

One...

"WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN HERE?!?"

Target acquired.

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron called, raising a glass of... erm... pumpkin juice to her and dancing provocatively against an already intoxicated Ravenclaw who was, herself, grinding against Harry. "Want to join us?"

Stone faced and pretty clearly furious, the bushy haired tornado tore through the crowd toward her best friends.

"RONALD WEASLEY! WHAT, or more importantly, WHO do you think you're doing? It is a school night, and this room is to be used only in times of need! I really don't want to, but you leave me no choice but to deduct House points!"

"Hermione, easy," reasoned Harry. "This is a time of need. We needed to let off steam. The room just gave us what we needed," he concluded, gesturing to the gigantic keg around which a good number of students were gathered.

"ALCOHOL? Harry, are you mad?!? I am Head Girl! I cannot let this stand! I am here to protect the students from their own dumb, stupid, teenage mistakes and from the wrath of the faculty! You cannot show me a keg and expect that to make everything alright!"

Ron shrugged and shouted over the music, switching out the Ravenclaw for a Hufflepuff whose promiscuity was widely known.

"Made everything alright for Malfoy."

And indeed, it had. Locating the blond Head Boy took little effort, as he was standing on the back of a leather couch, shouting something about Slytherin Quidditch and wearing his shirt around his head like a bandana. The crowd gathered below the Quidditch captain on the sofa echoed some of his sentiments and cheered at others, only serving to encourage him in his tirade.

God, please don't let him start quoting "Braveheart," Hermione thought miserably. It was too much. There were simply too many of them, and they were entirely too loud. Even if she could manage to make her voice heard through the cacophany of drunken students, they would never listen to her.

She was good, but she was no match for alcohol.

Slumping down on the non-Malfoy-infested couch, Hermione hung her head and considered her next move. Stay, and she would be punished if she was caught there. Leave, and she ran the risk of being reprimanded for not having control over the students. Leave, and she knew she would never be able to lie and deny knowledge of the party if questioned later. Stay, and...

"Come on, 'Mione. You've gone six and a half years without stepping a toe out of line," Harry soothed, though at Hermione's stern look, he ammended himself. "Well, stepping a toe out of line in the fun kind of way, not in the defeating the forces of evil way. Just have a beer. Loosen up. If anyone here deserves some relaxation, it's you! Come on," prodded the Boy-Who-More-Often-Than-Not-Lately-Annoyed-The-Shit-Out-Of-Her, handing her a glass.

"I do not drink, Harry," Hermione responded primly. "You know that."

"Hermione. One drink is not going to scar you forever. Besides, all the cool kids are doing it." Harry then flashed her one of his trademark smiles that made her forget how she could ever be mad at him, and she grudgingly took the beer from his hand. Making a face that would have made one think Harry had handed her a glass of bile, Hermione regarded him stonily.

"I guess one drink couldn't hurt anything."

***Thirty minutes later***

"Go! Go! Go! GO!"

A great cheer erupted from the left side of the room where the Gryffindors had gathered as Hermione Granger, Head Girl and pride of Gryffindor pinned Draco Malfoy's wrist to the tabletop once again. Three matches into the inaugural Hogwarts Seventh Years' Arm Wrestling Invitational, Hermione had dominated all comers.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried the bushy-haired, law-abiding seventh year who was now dressed disturbingly similarly to Draco. Luckily, she had remembered to wear a cute bra today. Man, nothing gets you hotter than arm wrestling.

She guessed. It was just about the only sport she'd ever participated in.

"Hermy needs another beer!" she proclaimed, and one of her faithful followers fetched it for her in record time. The initial plan of the evening had been to get Hermione drunk enough to be fun, but the more sloshed the Head Girl got, the more fun she became, and no one was about to cut her off. A couple more drinks and she might even begin to appreciate Quidditch.

A cocky Ravenclaw sat herself down across from Hermione, and the Head Girl scoffed.

"Is this the best- OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!"

And in an instant, all thought of the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat was lost as Hermione climbed on top of the table she'd just been using as a wrestling ring and began to dance. The music was Muggley, loud and metalic, and as Hermione began to sing it, the entire crowd took notice.

Actually, shocked into silence would be more the correct term.

The song itself was more provacative than anyone would have ever guessed Hermione had heard, let alone liked and knew all the words to. Not only that, she was dancing like a stripper, causing many of the boys to drool and most of the girls to regard her questioningly. Throughout the song, the repressed Head Girl touched herself, wiggled against boys, and threw around glances that were about as coquettish as the whores on Knockturn Alley.

It was like the "Dirrty" video.

Ron Weasley almost came in his pants.  
"I'm not a virgin anymore  
I just thought you should know  
Darlin' I've been around  
Yeah, I've been up and down your block  
In fact I have been all over town  
Down by the lake  
And underneath the table in my living room  
Outside by the blue, blue moon

"You can call me what you will  
Call me a slut, call me a jaded pill."  
At this point, Draco Malfoy took her advice and began leading a loud yet somehow affectionate chant of "Slut, slut, slut, slut!"  
"But darling I've got your number now  
I'm not a virgin anymore

"I've been taken  
I've been hung up   
I get down and start it over again  
I've been open  
I've been closed like a book  
And burned down like a written sin  
I just thought you should know, my darling before we begin  
I'm not a virgin anymore  
Just thought you should know  
"Before you let another lie go through your crooked little teeth  
I don't think you wanna start that shit with me  
Much better yet  
Tell me something dangerous and cool  
Oh, yeah, that looks much sexier on you  
"Careful what it is you say  
'Cause I can see right through you on a cloudy day  
And darling I think you wanna play  
I'm not a virgin anymore  
"I've been taken  
I've been hung up  
I get down and start it over again  
I've been open  
I've been closed like a book  
And burned down like a written sin  
So if you wanna play dirty, my darling   
I'm gonna win  
I'm not a virgin anymore  
"Been there, done that  
Say what?  
Get the hang of it   
Guess what guys?  
Screw you  
I had a whole lot of fun with it  
I've had enough now  
So you better take a bow  
It's gonna be an experience if you wanna play with me  
Daisy chains and mary janes  
Fairy tales cannot fool me now  
I just thought you should know...  
I've been taken  
I've been hung up  
I get down and start it over again  
I've been open  
I've been closed like a book  
And burned down like a written sin  
Hell, I've been divided  
Out of my mind and reinvented again  
I've been ignited and then uninvited  
So, honey, you pick it up  
I'm gonna put it back together again  
I just thought you should know, my darling before we begin  
I'm not a virgin anymore."

Hermione ended the song with a flourish, expecting the cheers of the crowd which she'd become accustomed to, but to her surprise no noise came from the assembly. Even the slut chant had died off.

"Miss Granger, that is entirely too much information and too little clothing."

"Oh, shit! It's Snape!... Did I say that out loud?" Hermione questioned, turning slowly to face her Potions Master. They stared each other down for a while, the students and their most hated professor. The silence was only broken by the sound of Harry slapping his forehead.

"THURSDAY is supersecret meeting and poker night! Sorry. Honest mistake."

Snape's black eyes bored into Hermione's now-frightened brown ones, unflinching and uncompromising.

"Miss Granger, get down, get dressed, and follow me. The rest of you are to return to your common rooms immediately. FIFTY points will be taken from each house with an additional hundred from Gryffindor, as I have no doubt the dynamic duo were behind this."

Embarrassed but still too drunk to be completely humiliated, Hermione gathered up her blouse from where she had thrown it on the floor and walked calmly to the door where she waited for further instruction from Snape.

"Put ON your clothes, Miss Granger," Snape snarled darkly, and she did so lazily. Quickly, he turned on his heel and exited the room, but just as quickly, he turned back, smacking straight into Hermione who had been following obediently.

"Oww..."

"LEAVE NOW!" thundered the Potions Master, and the crowd dispersed quickly, leaving only Snape and Hermione in the now-trashed Room of Requirement.

Looking straight into Hermione's eyes, Snape closed and locked the door.

"Sit. Down," Snape hissed through clenched teeth. Suddenly frightened, Hermione complied.

Or tried to, at least.

Slinking backward with a trajectory that would lead to where she thought she may have remembered seeing the couch, Hermione's knees came in contact instead with the keg, and she stumbled sloppily. Moving with his trademark stealth, the Potions Master was there before she could fall, gripping her arm and saving her from what no doubt would have been a nasty bruise. Shaken, Hermione smiled shyly at him but froze once again at his cold visage. That man could look downright nasty when he wanted to.

"I meant on the couch, but if perhaps you would prefer the keg..."

"No, sir- I jusht... I mean, just... Oh, bugger this!"

"Miss Granger, sit down and watch you mouth. It has landed you in enough trouble for one night already."

Walking shakily to the couch, Hermione was finally seated while Snape paced angrily in front of her. This was what bothered her most about him. He always wanted other people in the inferior position. He always had to be looking down on others, and not just figuratively. It was wrong, really, and probably a warning sign of some deep-seated emotional or psychological problem. Yes, it was definitely one of those, and if the room would stop its bloody spinning, Hermione would stand up just to deflate his ego.

"Miss Granger," Snape began slowly and smoothly. Was it the alcohol talking, or was his voice really that sexy all the time? "In all my years of teaching, I have never been as shocked, alarmed, or utterly dismayed by a student as I am by you tonight." His voice rose throughout the speech, and even drunk Hermione managed to feel a little bit badly about what she'd done. He hadn't said he had been "outraged" or "disgusted." No, just shocked.

Stupid grownups! Always making you feel worse about what you did by not punishing you!

...He's not going to punish me, is he?

"I'm sorry, sir. I-"

"I. Am. Not. Finished," spat Snape, and Hermione's apology died on her lips. If he was going to be an ass about it, she just wasn't gonna apologize. "Your behavior this evening is the single most idiotic thing I have ever known you to do, Hermione! Do you even know what could have happened?"

You mean, aside from liver damage and a hangover?

"Do you have even the tiniest clue what you looked like up there?" Snape yelled. Ooh, he was angry now. Hermione quickly changed her mind; condescending Snape was much better than angry Snape. In her mind, she drew devil horns and a pointy beard on him. It was funny. She would have giggled if it hadn't been for the annoying urge to regurgitate. "Do you even see," Snape continued, "the danger you are in when you behave that way?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but we were just having fun. Everyone else was enjoying it."

"Exactly my point!" he shouted, slamming his fist down hard on a newly-appeared coffee table. Somewhere along the line, the surroundings had changed and Hermione hadn't even noticed. Must have been while the room was spinning. Scared by Snape's sudden burst of anger, Hermione shrunk back against the pillows of the couch. For some reason his face had gone red all of a sudden, and he kind of looked like he was sweating. Odd, Hermione didn't ever remember seeing Snape sweat before. "Did you see how those boys were looking at you?" Snape continued to rage. "Couldn't you feel the want emanating off them? God, Hermione, do you even know what you look like?" Snape stopped pacing and stood in front of her, running his hands through his hair. For her part, Hermione sat dutifully on the couch, gazing at him with genuinely confused eyes. Boys? Want? Hermione? What the hell was he getting at? It couldn't be what she almost thought it was...

"What?"

But Hermione's question was never answered. Almost before the word had left her lips, Snape's lips were crushing down hard on hers, his hands posessively grabbing her waist. She squeaked in surprise at first, keeping her eyes open because she didn't know any better. Heehee! He looked funny when he was... oh, Merlin!

No need to close the eyes, since they were now rolled completely back in her head. Snape had moved to sit next to her on the... what the fuck?... on the bed, and his hands had begun roaming over her body, one pulling her tightly against him, and the other finding its target and fondling her breasts.

What the hell is going on?

Hermione didn't know, but it was nice, and she was going to continue until she was instructed differently. Almost roughly, Snape pushed her to lie on her back and moved his own body over hers, his erection clearly felt even through his pants and robes and Hermione's flimsy uniform skirt. Not expecting that, but liking it all the same, Hermione wiggled against him, only to fell his lips heavy on hers again, his tongue probing her mouth in a pitiful imitation of what his body ached to do to her.

"You see, Hermione?" he panted hot against her ear in between rough kisses along her neck. "You act like that and you're going to give men the wrong idea."

Hermione could only moan in response. Hell, if she'd known it would be that easy to get a guy, she would have done it sooner. Sure she talked a good game, and like the song said, she really wasn't a virgin, but she sure as hell hadn't been expecting this.

This was way more satisfying than her other experiences with Viktor, and Snape had barely done anything yet.

Moving against Snape in a way that made her skirt ride up around her waist, Hermione hungrily kissed him, initiating contact with him for the first time. Snape practically growled as her tongue entered his mouth, and he roughly pushed a hand between her legs, causing her to moan in a way she'd never known she could. Breaking the kiss, Snape grinned evilly as he thrust first one and then two fingers inside her. Hermione's body spasmed in ecstasy and she tried to cry out but found no sound would leave her throat. Before tonight, she'd never really fantasized about anything other than nice, sweet, romantic sex with clouds and rainbows and scented candles, but as Snape practically violently plunged into her, she could think of nothing more satisfying than if he were to just bend her over and take her with her skirt on.

God, was she really that big a freak?

Oh, well. Morals be damned; this was fun!

It was even more fun when she heard him moan as she unzipped his pants and grabbed at him.

"You act like that," Snape growled, "And men are going to take advantage of you." Positioning himself above her, Snape barely paused before entering her forcefully. Hermione cried out a bit at his sudden, unaplogetic intrusion but was soon silenced as Snape began to move inside her, filling her more than she'd ever thought possible.

No, WAY different than Viktor...

Finding a rhythm quickly, Hermione began to buck against him, enjoying every sensation. His mouth skimmed her lips, her breasts, her shoulder, her throat- all in amazingly fast succession, and within seconds she could feel the heat spread from between her legs to every inch of her skin.

"Please," she begged, though she was not sure exactly what it was she wanted. Consenting to her unspecified request, Snape only began to take her more forcefully, knocking her head into the headboard more than once. She was sure she would have a knot there in the morning, but she was also quite sure she wouldn't care much.

"Come for me, Hermione," Snape demanded, close to his own release. He didn't have to ask her twice. With a quick touch to her clit, Snape sent her over the edge, and she flailed about wildly for several seconds, invoking the names of several deities before calming down. Severus continued to thrust into her throughout her orgasm, but almost immediately afterward his own movements became sporadic as he emptied himself into her.

Collapsed on top of her, Snape growled into her ear.

"If you tell anyone about this, I will see that you fail Potions this year." Hermione could tell he was completely serious and so fought the urge to giggle.

"I understand, sir," she said solemnly as he disentangled himself from her and hastily zipped up his pants. Standing above her, he sneered as he gazed down on her disheveled form.

"There is still the matter of punishment, Miss Granger. After all, as Head Girl you should have broken up this party, not taken part in it."

"I know, sir, I-"

"I believe a week's worth of detention with me shall suffice."

A tiny smile flashed across her face and was gone before he could see it.

"A week, sir? Don't you think I deserve more punishment than that?"

Snape's lips turned up in his signature smirk as he eyed her appraisingly.

"We shall see, Miss Granger."  


 _  
**Not a Virgin**   
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione prepares for her first detention with Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had thought this was lost forever because I forgot my log-in info at AFF.net and my computer (several, in fact) had crashed in the years since I wrote it, but I tried AFF on a whim a bit ago and logged right in. I liberated this chapter and cleaned it up a bit, so I hope you like it.

After the debacle at the party and the even more entertaining debacle after the party, Hermione had never been so grateful for Christmas break. And she had never, ever been so upset that she'd let Harry and Ron talk her into staying at the school with them. So, it was Christmas break which was good considering Hermione would not have to sit through class with Snape worrying about the upcoming detentions and what they meant. She would not have to sit there in the front row of his classroom, wearing that scandalously short skirt, listening to his incredibly sexy voice, wondering what he thought of her- or worse, if he was thinking of her at all. She wouldn't have to sit there, only inches away from him, trying desperately to lick her suddenly parched lips in a non-sexual-thought-induced way while considering whether or not her impending detention would be a real detention or something... more fun. She would not have to sit in that stiflingly stuffy dungeon that would make her sweat and make him sweat and make them sweat and pretty soon everything would be a big sweaty mess. No, no class with Snape, which was definitely a good thing. But since she was there at Hogwarts and not someplace skiing with her parents or even knitting something with Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow, it meant that there would be no delay to the beginning of those detentions. They would start tonight, eight o'clock sharp. Right after dinner.

And Hermione had no idea whether to be sick with anticipation or with dread, though quite honestly she was rather sick, no matter the cause. But she knew the cause. Alcohol, the cure-all for all of her problems last night, was making her life this morning a living hell. Sure, she knew how to- and could quite easily could- make a hangover potion, but in a sick way she kind of liked feeling this way. It was her punishment for a night of debauchery, dancing, and other not-very-Head-Girl-like behavior. She deserved to feel this. She deserved to be wretched. Oh, God, what had she done?

Snape.

Oh, yeah.

Once more grateful beyond words for the private bathroom awarded to the Head Girl as part of her suite of rooms, Hermione clutched the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of her stomach, though there couldn't have been much in there. She'd been throwing up ever since she'd arrived back in her rooms last night, and even then the only thing she'd injested that whole day was the quick lunch she'd grabbed before heading to the library for- guess what?- research. And the beer. The copious amounts of beer.

She didn't even LIKE the taste of beer.

"Oh, bugger this," she croaked, her throat sore and raw from the night's activities.

The vomit-y ones. Not the Snape-y ones.

Pulling herself off the bathroom floor, Hermione rummaged through her medicine cabinet. She was sure she didn't have any hangover potion brewed, but her rooms sometimes had a whole Room of Requirement-y thing going on, so she decided it was worth a try. Smiling triumphantly as she peered inside, Hermione yanked a pretty, shiny new bottle out of the cabinet. She downed the contents quickly, but as the potion took effect, she almost vomited again.

 _Good God!_ she thought, _I hope my mouth didn't taste like that when Snape... Uh... Eew!_ Reaching into the cabinet again, Hermione's hands reached straight to the place she knew her mouthwash would be. She unscrewed the cap in record time and poured the burning liquid into her mouth. Taking a good long time to make sure she got all the yucky stuff, Hermione finally spat it out but quickly reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. She couldn't help it. Her parents were dentists, and to the Granger household icky mouths were about as close to inconquerable evil as you could get. All in all, it was about a half an hour before Hermione decided her mouth was clear and free from any reminders of the activities of the past twenty-four hours.

But as soon as her mouth was clean, she realized how absolutely skeezy the rest of her felt. Honestly, she hadn't even toweled herself off after her little tryst with the Potions Master. Noticing for the first time since rational thought had once again become an option for her that her underwear, which Snape had merely pushed aside, were sticky and actually a little bit... well, it wasn't pretty, Hermione quickly stripped and turned on the shower.

It wasn't that she felt dirty about what she'd done with Snape.

It was just that she felt... you know, dirty. Unclean. Unkempt. Unwashed.

Not dirty in the two R's, Christina Aguilera way.

But it would probably be fun to reenact certain aspects of the video with the still-feared yet strangely lusted after Potions Master.

Smiling at the thought, Hermione stepped into the almost scalding water. All her life she'd loved bath time, whether bath or shower. There was just something about being naked. Not just being naked, but being ALLOWED to be so openly naked. The Grangers were not terribly strict or oppressive parents, but they were proper, and the state of proper dress had been stressed to Hermione at an early age. They had never instilled any kind of body shame or anything like Hermione'd heard the other girls talk about, but she'd always known it was not proper, not right to be naked.

Which sucked, because ever since she'd been old enough to know the difference, Hermione had loved being naked.

So once she was settled under the hot water, Hermione continued to smile. She took care of the basics quickly, as she always did during her bathing- washing herself, her hair, adding the ten pounds of conditioner that would allow her hair to be manageable. Well, manageable for her. Any other girl would have sued the manufacturer if they'd received the same results as Hermione did from their product. But it was after the whole cleansing part of the shower that Hermione enjoyed best. Most times, she'd just stand there, feeling the pulse and heat of the water relax every muscle in her body, but today was different.

She'd never intended for it to happen, and she'd surely never done it before, but as the water ran over her so gloriously naked body, Hermione began to think about Snape. It was unnatural, really, that she'd be attracted to him, and quite honestly, she was almost surprised that she would be thinking of him _that way_ in a nondrunken state, but the more she thought of him, the more she began to long for detention. It was going to be a good detention, right? A fun detention with very little actual detention-like activity, right?

"Miss Granger!"

The strong voice invaded her thoughts just as she was rinsing some stray suds off her breasts.

Even in fantasy, the man had impeccable timing.

Smiling deviously, Hermione continued paying close attention to her breasts though she was quite sure all the soap was gone.

"Miss Granger, that is absolutely inappropriate behavior!"

She could see him now, standing there watching her, arms crossed over his chest, that trademark snarl on his face. Wow. That had never been a turn-on before. If it had, she was quite sure Neville would have been off the hook as far as most explosions caused in a single year. She herself would have been doing whatever it took to earn herself a bit of that Snape glare.

Envisioning Snape there standing in front of her only made Hermione giddy and well... undeniably horny. She bit her lower lip and put on the most innocent face and voice she could muster.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Professor?" she asked Daydream Action Figure Snape, all the while continuing to fondle her own breasts with her left hand and moving her right hand down her stomach lazily, though its trajectory was clear. God, having him watch her while she touched herself was making her crazy. Who'd have guessed that Hermione Granger was a freak? She was learning more and more about herself all the time, it seemed. "What am I doing wrong, sir? Can you help me?"

"Miss Granger, I will tell you once again to stop. Believe me, you do not want me to have to make you stop," he intoned menacingly, almost a growl. Slipping her hand down further, through her pubic hair, Hermione continued to stare at the dream Snape innocently.

"Stop what, Professor? I'm sorry, but if you won't tell me what I'm doing wrong I can't possibly stop." Hermione had never known her mind could take such a sexual turn, and regrettably, she'd never known her hands could be so skilled either, and she moaned loudly as her hand finally found its place, beginning to touch herself in earnest.

Note to self. Shower as often as humanly possible from now on. In between classes if possible.

"Miss Granger!" snarled Snape, but his voice was choked and strangled. Almost like something was hurting him. Probably those tight pants, Snape. Best if you take them off...

"What's wrong, sir? How can anything be wrong when I'm thinking about you?"

With an unearthly moan, Snape strode into the shower in one long step and took Hermione into his arms, crushing her to his hard (an remarkably dry) body. He kissed her passionately and quickly disrobed, claiming her once again as his own. For her part, Hermione matched his every kiss, lick, and thrust. He was amazing, like nothing Hermione had ever experienced before, even better than the night before. Although, unlike last night, Hermione felt herself speeding along toward the climax at quite an accelerated rate. Snape never spoke again during the encounter, though his low growls and moans urged Hermione on more than she could ever explain. But in the end, it was over entirely too quickly and Hermione was left alone and panting in the shower, a wide grin plastered across her face and her fingers sticky with her own juices. She stayed like that for almost a minute: bent over, two of her fingers still inside of her, her left hand still tweaking her nipple, and relishing the feeling of completion and accomplishment. But after that initial pride, she sighed in a way that was entirely too joyful to completely be a sigh and reached for the soap again.

Somehow, she didn't feel clean anymore.

Though somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care. Humming to herself, Hermione quickly soaped up again, this time all business. After all, detention was coming up, and it would be rude to be late.

 _And already spent_ , she thought with a wry smile, though as she rinsed herself off she knew that if Snape was of the same mindset as she was and her detention was going to be much more fun than copying lines, she would have absolutely no trouble giving him a repeat performance.

With a wicked grin Hermione stepped out of the shower and strolled through her suite. Completely naked.

Take that, propriety!


End file.
